


Irrepressible

by sureva



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Androids, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sureva/pseuds/sureva
Summary: There’s something wrong with Ai. Ranmaru tries his best to help, but whose fault is it anyway?
Relationships: Kurosaki Ranmaru/Mikaze Ai
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Irrepressible

“It’s going to rain soon.”

He was right; he always was. Cellphone on his ear, Ranmaru took a brief glance at the sky; and sure enough, the thundering masses bent hinting that its weight was about to fall. From where the cover had started to crack there was glittering, stars scattering like pieces of diamonds. 

“So it looks like, Ai”, Ranmaru replied fondly.

He was making his way to his secondary apartment. Today’s recording had run late, and the Quartet Night complex was on the other side of the city, hence the decision. Ai had called him to ask if he was coming tonight, but as much as he didn’t want to disappoint his band mate he had had to tell him no. The commute would cut his already patchy sleeping schedule shorter than was necessary. 

It was late, and in the dark Ranmaru felt tender appreciation for the boy whose voice kept him company while he navigated the murky streets. The clouds fell apart somewhere, hanging low on the rooftops of the tower buildings. The brilliance of a billion city was accompanied by the twinkling jewelry of the black sky, and the moon’s friendly eyes upon the walker.

Absently, Ranmaru wondered if Ai stayed up to be on the phone with other Quartet Night members too. Since when the boy had become so clingy? The peculiarity of it got him thinking if it was possible for an android to feel lonely... For Ai surely didn’t let it show. Because both were comfortable with their little game they kept it up, although having nothing in particular to discuss. It was their own play they had scripted. Ranmaru was never tired of it: his mouth shaping the word love, picturing Ai’s mischievous face as he did. 

“Unlike some other night owls, I value my sleep, Ai.”

“Oh? Funny how you say that, especially after I tracked activity from your phone at 2 am last night.” 

That was the face. Ranmaru could practically see him grin in front of his laptop, the smug little bastard. The image stirred warm and pleasant in his chest. 

Ai was always sharp like that. Sharp eye, wit, tongue. Ranmaru liked to challenge him in a verbal match, to see how far he’d go. The boy’s remarks tended to become sharp knives if he was pushed over his limits -and for that, it was where Ranmaru often tried to tug him, to earn new reactions. Their interaction was filled with constant tease, for the sake of learning about the other, to see something new. The superficial politeness of his usual communication wasn’t enough to saturate the human’s thirsty heart (Why wouldn’t he pursuit the boy, if he was willing?). And so, their relationship had turned into a chase; racing to find out the other's weak spots. 

It was fun and meaningful, and furthermore, Ranmaru had started to see the affectionate layer underneath the sass. To bare your heart meant baring your teeth first. And just like that, they kept seeking each other's voice in the dark night, mutually invested in exploring the other's secrets. Like a lap they both wanted to win although it was unknown what came after the finish line.

“I’m serious. There’s no need to catch any illnesses due to poor life choices, Ranmaru.”

"Yeah, yeah. Ain't no need to worry 'bout me", the man answered softly. Whatever made him so soft with the boy. Ai hummed, and Ranmaru could hear him smile through it. Recently, he had found the cords to pull to soothe him, to make him comfortable. Just how his voice made him comfortable -he had accepted it as if his own voice inside his brain.

Deep inside of their warm bubble, the flowing conversation, the man stepped from the pedestrian street to the zebra crossing. Immediately, a car screeched as brakes were hit against the asphalt. 

Ranmaru experienced an involuntary flinch, body expecting a collision. There was a loud crack as his phone dropped from his hand, engaging with the road. 

In spite of the hazard, the vehicle managed to stop just an inch before his knees. Frantic in the aftermath of his adrenaline spike, the man hit the engine hood of the car.

“Watch the road, asshat!”, Ranmaru spat out unmannerly. His heartbeat was banging in his ears like crazy as he moved to the sidewalk. Looking around, he sought to recover the call but upon retrieving his phone, found that it was completely busted. His first thought was _Fuck, would’ve wanted to assure Ai it was nothin’_. Nonetheless, judging by their prior conversation it hardly mattered -they’d meet tomorrow in the rehearsal, anyways. It wasn’t like losing a phone would be enough to change anything.

Ranmaru went to buy a new one on his way to the gym the next morning. The clerk took forever, so he ended up being late from Quartet Night’s weekly choreography practice. Grimacing, he could practically hear Camus preaching of ‘unprofessionalism’ in his head as he huffed towards the locker rooms. _If you expected the unexpected, these things wouldn’t happen_ , Ai would vision instead. The hell he even meant by that. Ready to receive his lecture Ranmaru banged into the dance studio, but was faced with only two of the remaining members.

“Ran-Ran!” Reiji exclaimed. “Where’s Ai-Ai?”

Ranmaru’s face fell. “What, isn’t he here?” he barked an idiotic response. How unusual. Although Ranmaru himself was cutting it thin here and there, this was Ai; _he_ was never late. Was it the built-in clocking system or what, but the boy had never failed to appear in time before. This would be the first.

Suspicious, Ranmaru flipped open his new phone. It read _no missed calls_ ; making his heart bang irrationally. If he was unavoidably detained, he ought to have called him at least. Raising the device on his ear he attempted to reach Ai while Reiji complained in the background that they had already tried that. And sure enough, Ai’s voicemail greeted him, draining their efforts dry. 

Staring at the black screen incredulously, Ranmaru couldn’t think of anything. He had just talked with the kid yesterday, right? There was no reason for him to have changed plans and not tell anyone about it. Something must’ve happened. 

Despite of his unease, Ranmaru was pulled back to present by Camus’ firm statement that they were not going to waste any more time. It wasn’t a mystery more than some casual occurrence. And even though not in a million years would Ranmaru admit it, he was probably right. Ai would show up later.

An hour passed. Progressing on their set list, they mentally agreed that Ai had probably just skipped the lesson. However, Ranmaru couldn’t concentrate for shit. He was constantly called out by either of them as he sank into his thoughts during the run-through. They were over the chorus for the third time because he kept messing up the steps as the door went off.

“You're late”, Camus stated icily, hardly glancing at the boy. “Explain yourself.”

“Ai-Ai! You finally came!” Reiji cried, prancing over to him. His beaming was interrupted as abruptly as was his sentence. “Ai-Ai, I’m sooo glad you could make it -Hey, why are you… Are you alright?” 

Ranmaru was following behind. He pushed the shorter man out of his way, and a mere glance could tell him that Ai was indeed not okay.

His shoelaces were untied. His hair and clothes were damp. Despite having arrived to the practise, he wasn’t wearing his gym clothes. In fact, weren’t those the same clothes that he had been wearing yesterday? But since when the knees of his jeans had been torn, the skin underneath covered in road rash?

Cold shivers went down Ranmaru’s spine along realizing that. The exception to the rule of being always on time added to this uncommon shabbiness raised more questions. The red flags were already too numerous to count, but then Reiji gasped “Ai-Ai, your hands-!” and Ranmaru had to pin his wandering gaze there.

The heels of Ai’s palms were ripped open. There was no blood, of course -instead, the synthetic skin had been shred to reveal an electrical mess, some of the small circuits snapped like capillary… Ranmaru’s eyes followed the subtle references of injury through Ai’s body. It went up his elbows, on the sharp edge of his hips, on every protruding corner of his small frame vulnerable of taking damage. And strange enough, Ai didn’t try to hide it. It came from deep his core to appear proficient, yet he hadn’t brushed the dried mud off his clothes. Even the wires -the pivotal factor of his survival was to not show anything deviant of human, and yet there he stood in the daylight, sparking palms open.

Ranmaru was dumbfounded. So accustomed to seeing the boy in charge of himself and everything around him, he didn’t know how to react now that he _wasn’t_. It was... not like Ai in the slightest.

The android appeared even more spacey than usual. While Reiji fussed around him, his eyes didn’t snap in focus. In fact, he didn’t react to any of the questions or accusations directed to him, and at that point his unresponsiveness had caught on to all of them. Ranmaru stared, brows knitted, feeling the cold sweat travel down his neck. Ai stared back at him -exclusively so, for some reason -with that calm, bottomless pond of an expression veiling his face. 

The wind that broke the surface mirror came from inside. Ai opened his mouth, ready to reveal the immiserating truth. The simple task looked painfully laborious, and the boy attempted it a few times before getting it right. 

“ _Ran_ -ma- _ru_ ”, he croaked, and his helplessness lowered the spirits of the concerned one. 

“Yeah”, the man muttered. “It’s me. What’s going on with you?” he inquired gently, but the boy was unable to proceed with his confession. His predicament was absolutely despairing; his cold, jittering hands as if squeezing Ranmaru’s heart. Experimentally, he raised his own hand on his shoulder, intending to gently shake the boy out of it. 

Upon trying though, Ranmaru had to retreat with a hiss. “What happened?” asked Reiji as he blew cool air on his fingers.

“He’s burning up”, the man grimaced, teeth gritted. Reiji turned to look at Ai stunned. When the trio stood next to him in silence, they could hear the faint whirring of his system trying to reduce the excess heat. 

It was worse than Ranmaru had expected. Not one of them was particularly familiar with broken androids, and so they regressed to quarrel about it out of their sheer nervousness. Reiji’s questions turned up in volume; Ranmaru told him to shut the hell up. Camus turned his back to the problem. Quartet Night was never quite Quartet Night without one of their members.

Ranmaru couldn’t think. Ai’s pleading gaze scorching his skin, his blood pressure seething in his ears and he couldn’t help but bark at the two. In the face of his uneasiness he was almost robbed of the courage to act, his organic body malfunctioning like a robot’s.

“Ai”, Ranmaru said, interrupting the rest of the team. His voice had adapted into a more commanding tone.

“Analyze your status.”

Ai stopped. Then, as if a different person emerged to take charge, he straightened his posture mechanically. Raising his chin, he fixed his blind gaze straight into the abyss.

“ _System overheating_ ”, he said, but his voice hardly sounded like his. It was too metallic, like a prototype’s. Pre-recorded, his mouth didn’t match the words and was unable to keep up, for there was only so many functions he could run with the limited capacity. 

“ _Emergency shutdown in 3… 2… 1…_ ” 

Everybody held their breath as he counted down. But Ai just blinked idly, following the zero with: 

“ _Emergency shutdown cancelled._

__

__

_Forced restart activated_.

_System overheating._ ”

“Hey, stop that”, Ranmaru heard his own voice growl. He didn’t know about the others, but to him that looked fucking unhealthy. Ai was obviously hurting, but kept himself up and running nevertheless. How far was he about to go? To withheld the boy from spouting anything else, Ranmaru simply hissed “Ai, analysis complete” to make it stop. He didn’t like to make the boy do anything by force.

Ai remained standing by the edge of the room. He blinked, slowly, silently breathing in and out… And that was everything he was permitted to. Confined, even the simplest of his functions seemed to falter every now and then. The inhale lagging behind, coming out as a small cough. He was too exhausted to keep the illusion of competency intact.

“What was that, Ran-Ran! How’d you know what to do?” Reiji chimed in. It was the first thing to break the stunned silence after Ai had ended his diagnostic. 

Ranmaru shrugged, scratching his neck. “It was advised in the manual.”

“What manual?”

Only then did he remember that not everyone knew how to handle an android.

“Why me?” he could remember asking as the manual had been handed towards him. It was the day Quartet Night had been formed; Ranmaru chosen to have the responsibility of Ai. He definitely hadn’t liked the idea.

“Listen, Kurosaki! We need someone from the inside to be able to act in case something goes wrong.” Saotome made sense if he ever talked in a serious manner. Ranmaru still couldn’t retain from making a face because he was petty like that. 

“You’re the only member of Quartet Night with both enough seriousness _and_ a sense of responsibility. In other words, you _care_ , put down your ego.” The look on the principal’s face showed that he knew he was reading him like an open book. Kind of intimidating, really. 

“I don’t”, Ranmaru had mumbled while accepting the notes, the action contradicting his lie. Or, what had been true at first but not for very long afterwards.

He didn’t care being anyone’s babysitter, that much was true. Yet, he was persuaded into it by the fact that it resembled first-aid more than anything; not needed day-round but occasionally. That much he could do. Ai had to be moved from in front of cameras if he malfunctioned, preferably restarted too to avoid suspicious delays in performance. Ranmaru doubted if they were talking about a person at all.

Side-eyeing the boy in the green room he got second thoughts about the whole thing. How much responsibility had he accidentally accepted? Ai was, frankly put, a hundreds of thousands of yens worth private project. To commission an android to a position in front of the public eye was ambiguous to say the least (yet, classic principal). To pull off the heist no one was to know the truth of his nature. Ranmaru came to despise guarding him as he understood the sensitivity of the matter. _Fake_. That’s what the headlines would call him if it wasn’t for his assignment to protect Ai’s identity.

He was probably overthinking it. Fidgeting the rubber band around his wrist, Ranmaru stared at the boy’s profile. He might have thought he was being discreet; but Ai caught him, and the man learned that he would always catch him.

“What’s on your mind?” 

Staring into the bright pools of tiffany blue, Ranmaru’s only thought was that _that_ wasn’t what he had expected to come out of his small mouth. In fact, he could never anticipate the next move Ai would make, his motives staying obscure and inscrutable to him. Looking at that scrawny teenager standing in front of him, his stare piercing him as if he was already aware of his every thought and had only asked to confuse him, it dawned on Ranmaru. He would never question his new position -he would always protect that weird kid from everything that was thrown to their path.

By the next week he had read the manual. They didn’t know each other -would they ever, truly?- but by every page he had waded through Ranmaru had felt more like he could understand the boy. He was on the threshold to his personhood, like a baby deer taking his first steps. His quirkiness and almost comical stiffness were adorable; and the android being flawed was all the reassurance Ranmaru needed. For others he was a perfect copy of a human being; but for him, he was human. 

So, the fragility of their reality came as a shock.

He had never asked to be born, Ai had explained to him one late night in the band’s flat. _I’m just here to do what I’m made for_. Hard as it had been to hear that, harder it must’ve been to live by that. It made Ranmaru feel anxious to the core. Was that really all? That he had no say in what he wanted to do with his life? Ranmaru could relate to being ‘born to sing’, but the audience was arbitrary. They couldn’t be entertained forever.

_They’ll discard Ai eventually_. The realization occurred him coldly, like the acceptance of the other’s death. It was the coldest thing he had known after being abandoned. And on some deep, deep level, he made a deal with himself to never leave Ai’s side. He’d make his time in their band worthwhile, the meaning of ‘protecting Ai’ gaining new dimensions as the time went on. He’d let no one treat him like a simple doll.

This time, it meant scooting the feverish android in his arms despite the burning sensation on his skin. The practice had been cancelled and the remaining members of Quartet Night sent home. Ranmaru wanted to avoid any hassle. It was the first time he had had to put his training into action; but the real situation had something that he hadn’t considered. 

Ai’s ghost-like state was terrifying. He stared up at him while being carried, his stiff limbs bending a bit funny around Ranmaru’s arms, and the expression on his face was completely empty. Doll or not, it looked like they had forgotten to write him a personality. As they hurried out of public, Ranmaru couldn’t think of anything besides the warning that was probably going on behind his eyes even now. _Emergency shutdown in 3…_

“Don’t worry”, he said, through the thick layer of his concern, and the pain that holding piping hot plastic caused. “You’re gonna be just fine. I’ll get you fixed.” 

But Ai didn’t show any signs of comprehension to his consolation. He just blinked slowly, heavily, and it killed the man inside to see him so inalert. His eyes were his most outstanding feature: how the fierce gaze could cross any room, travel through every obstacle. Now, Ranmaru missed it as a misty layer sat on top of the cold turquoise, the unfolding situation sitting even tighter in the pit of his stomach. None of it was looking good. 

Ai’s ankles hit a door frame. Ranmaru cursed. The more he let the panic consume him, the more irresolute he became. Turning the corners with invincible force, he drove his feet aggressively forward and away from the growing doubt in the back of his head. But by the time they reached the small lounge room and had the boy laid down on a sofa, it had reached him and submerged them both in its suffocating blue.

Ranmaru had no idea if he was able to fix Ai. His confidence was of performed sort, the words of comfort primarily for his own peace of mind. He hoped that Ai was at least listening, even if he wasn’t able to sigh, and tell him his usual “ _What are you doing? You idiot_ ”. Ranmaru wouldn’t have thought he’d miss hearing that.

In any case, it was better to try to fix the bug himself. An error like this had been his worst nightmare for the longest time. He didn’t know that if he sent Ai to the lab now, would he ever come back? If his repair got too expensive to carry out, they’d just deactivate him. Ranmaru wasn’t very trusting with any damn doctor, especially not the ones who thought of their patients solely as money-making machines. He dreaded the thought of handing Ai over to those leeches.

Giving it no more thought, Ranmaru set his computer up on the impractical little coffee table. His hands must’ve been covered in minor burns, but it wouldn’t slow him down. There was more important business to handle. Shuffling his bag for the manual and a hdmi cable, he thanked god for the fact that he always carried those. The accident proved that anything could happen at any given time; it wasn't just him being a worrier. 

Approaching Ai with the hdmi cable in hand, he gave the instructions a final once-over. Everything was clear; he knew what he had to do. So why… Why did it feel so hard, like failing to do this would cost an innocent life? Procrastinating his duties wasn’t like the man at all, but the air surrounding Ai was always indeterminate, stripping him off of years' experience. He hated and was intrigued by the feeling the same; the boy made him weak, like touching him would make him crumble.

Besides, Ranmaru had never actually had to take a look at his system inside. The thought felt oddly personal, private even -like dipping into another person’s mind. Kneeling next to the boy, he tried to shed the uneasy thoughts the best he could. 

“Hey, Ai”, Ranmaru greeted him softly. 

He had arranged Ai on the sofa carefully. A pillow behind his head, long legs hanging over the armrest. Shallow breaths exited his open mouth in the cushions, hard chest constricting. The boy moved his eyes laboriously to him for the greeting, but despite his attempts to maximize his comfort Ranmaru felt like it had done nothing to alleviate his pain.

“I’m going to have to plug this into you to shut you down manually, since you ain't doing that yourself. That okay?” He didn’t know why he was asking. It was not like it depended on his answer, he’d have to do it anyway. But the thought of probing his mind kept bouncing back nervously, making the man uncertain.

Ai’s pupils dilated. The whirring sound from deep inside his system increased, like a hurricane between his ribs. Keeping his eyes fixed on Ranmaru’s, he struggled to move his lips, jaw, anything; until the cradle of his head resembled a shake. He didn’t consent.

“Oh C’mon”, Ranmaru murmured, heavy lump taking root in his throat. Ai was always pushing his buttons, but he wouldn’t have thought they’d have to quarrel about his care! There was nothing he could think of that would explain Ai’s refusal. Didn’t he want to be fixed?

Ai was curling his fingertips slowly. Tenderly they moved, feeling the exposed wires of his palm. Ranmaru got an urge to restrain him, to take hold of his hand, but was left to follow that sad little detail instead. The air stagnated around them in silence, until the man remembered to pick himself up. 

“You can’t go on like this. Don’t worry about the practice, just… Let me do this to you, okay?” _Let me help you_. Ranmaru leaned over him distraughtly, chasing his eyes; but Ai wouldn’t look at him anymore. Blinking slowly, steadily, he stared into the absolute nothingness instead. It wasn't until his gaze drifted down that he showed how exhausted he was of objecting. Ai gave up the fight. Surrendering himself to his hands, the android let his head lull to the side, and in it Ranmaru found the subtle sign of permission he had been looking for. 

Defeated he laid there, his slender neck exposed, and at that point was Ranmaru officially disgusted with himself. But it was no use; willing himself to take action, the man brought his trembling hand over, feeling around the back of his head in search of the input. Long fingers disappeared into the strands of turquoise; sweat gathered upon his brow as he massaged his scalp pointlessly. At last, there was a sharp edge by the join point of his neck and head.

Embarrassed of how long it’d taken, Ranmaru could only assume how much Ai was judging him right now. It worsened when he realized that there was no way to enter without undoing his hairdo. Ready to combust from guilt, he pulled hair from his tight ponytail as careful as his rough hands could until the socket was visible.

He plugged the cord in.

Returning to the computer, he kept a close watch on Ai while he clicked his file open from the command center. As expected, a lot of warning pop-ups came through, the first on the list prioritizing emergency shutdown. 

The tabs of red reflected from his skin as he considered it for the last time. ‘Shutting Ai down’ was a thoroughly terrible concept in itself -it felt too much like _putting_ him down. Although the procedure had been explained to resemble a coma in the manual, Ranmaru couldn’t help the persistent, anxious thought of death in the back of his head. Nor handle the fact that he was soon to be the one to induce it -it made him feel like hell. 

Chasing Ai’s face, he hoped for a validating smile, or a fit of temper; anything to help him with the dreadful decision. But reassurance was too much to ask: Ai’s head was still turned away from him. Watching his profile made Ranmaru feel the loneliest man in the world. Cringing at the task at hand, long thorns of ice pierced through his chest as he clicked on the command.

Ditching the computer he rushed to Ai’s side, soon learning that his efforts to be a comforting presence hardly held value. Ai didn’t budge; didn’t even flinch. The deactivation went through almost unnoticeable; the boy just calmly fluttered his eyes shut. Absolutely nothing comparable to the kind of explosion Ranmaru’s panic-stricken mind had expected ever happened, and steadily, the fervent rumble in his ears lessened. Palm raised to feel Ai’s upper arm, he followed the decrease of his temperature, the rise and fall underneath his shirt.

An eternity passed… And at last, the man gave up monitoring his condition, turned around and slouched his back against the sofa. All alone in the world, in the small room, he felt the odd emptiness in his chest expand. The only thing restricting its growth was the fact that at least one of them was in peace, even though the other wasn’t. If nothing else, Ranmaru wanted to think he had managed to relieve Ai’s condition. But what had caused it remained a mystery. 

Silence settled around the facility towards the afternoon. It extended to between his ears at last, taking away the overanalyzing. Ranmaru got up sluggishly, loitering back to the open laptop. He had nothing to do while Ai slept -could just as well answer a couple of emails. But much to his surprise, Ai’s program was still running on the open screen. 

Ranmaru stopped to stare at it. The rest of the warning sites were closing automatically, the system cleaning and sorting itself out; a subconscious’ work. In the top bar, the initials “A.I.” sat against a background mix of calming blue and harmonic shapes. That image came across as the most soothing and inviting thing to Ranmaru. That was Ai -or well, the electronic version of the reality of his. His physical body was still laying on the break room couch across the room.

In the yawn between past anxiety and uncertain future, it was too alluring to _not_ touch. Ranmaru felt like a bad boy, but only vaguely; most of it was just his curiosity. Without thinking it too much, he sat down in the quiet room and started scrolling.

Most of it was just code. Ai’s folder was for scientists, rather than the general folk; Ranmaru felt like he lacked a couple of brain cells deciphering his algorithms. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for, either. Something irremediable had happened between the time they had ended the call last night and the moment he had stepped into the studio this morning. It became a natural point to start. What had caused Ai to spiral down?

Typing the word _memory_ into the search bar, thousands of hits popped up. The stream had the man resort to the aid of the manual; by the time he learned to filter the results by their timestamps it started to make sense. Grinning at his first victory, Ranmaru clicked play on the clip from 22:14:09 last night.

In front of him was a laptop screen. Ai’s delicate hands moved idly on the keyboard, one of them raising to stifle a yawn. He had apparently been working late on sound mixing, for his surroundings could be recognized as the recording studio. The armrests of his gaming chair poked into the picture; the boy was hugging his knees, and his environment appeared too big for his size. 

“ _I’m serious. There’s no need to catch any illnesses due to poor life choices, Ranmaru_ ”, Ai spoke softly into his headset. The line sounded familiar -then it hit him. Ranmaru had remembered the time of their phone call right!

“ _Yeah, yeah. Ain't no need to worry 'bout me_ ”, he heard himself say. Ai made a humming noise, like a gentle laughter to show that he agreed. Hearing it again made the man’s heart wrung with pain; it has been the last not-sad thing he had heard from him since, hopefully not for the last time ever. The audio was then interrupted with a harsh sound of traffic and a bang: Ranmaru had dropped his phone, and the call ended. 

Everything up to that point had been familiar to him. Like living through it with his own memories, just a different POV; but this was Ai’s mind. He didn’t know the things that he did.

“Ranmaru?” he heard Ai’s voice say, smaller than usual. It made his skin raise goosebumps.

Ai repeated his name over and over, the sounds of a car crash fresh over the scene. “Ranmaru? Are you alright?”, while the phone tooted the end of the call in the background. He must have thought it worse than it was. But the illogic in his behavior was curious; this was Ai. If it has been anybody else, Ranmaru wouldn’t have thought it twice. But Ai’s whole character was carefully crafted to base on common sense, not emotion. 

It didn’t make sense.

On top of that, the scene didn’t end. Ranmaru looked Ai fiddle with his phone; he was trying to call his number back. ‘ _The selected number cannot be reached_ ’ was heard time and again, but it didn’t discourage him; Ranmaru lost count of his tries, but it must’ve been around fifteen. 

His insistence defied any logic. It was getting weirder by second -why couldn’t he just let it go? Ranmaru watched the boy’s desperation with growing misery. His predicament made him want to jump on a time machine to tell the past Ai _I’m okay, see? Stop that_ , but it was impossible. The only thing he was able to do now was to continue the film and wish it’d help him cure the present Ai’s sorry state.

And that’s what he did. Ranmaru didn’t know what to expect from the rest of Ai’s night, but it was definitely not what it came out to be.

As the phone stayed stubbornly mute, Ai gave up with it. Ranmaru watched him get up from in front of his computer, not minding to do as much as close it. Without missing a beat he strove to the exit, only grabbing his light jacket from the coat check. From the hallway mirror Ranmaru was able to catch a glimpse of his face. Decorating it was a strange, uptight expression he had never seen on him before.

Ai opened the door. 

It was pouring down hard outside. Long strips of liquid were shooting from the clouds, colliding with the streetlamps and occasional jersey barriers. Ranmaru peered into the darkness along with Ai, the bucketing down sound rumbling loud in their ears. Say, he wasn’t going to…?

“Don’t do it”, Ranmaru growled under his breath. His heart beat accelerated uncomfortably in his chest, sweaty palms curling in itself. It was torture to watch. 

His advice came late; nine hours or so. Now, there was absolutely nothing in his power to do about Ai stepping over the threshold and into the darkness, to underneath the torrential rain. The wind immediately grabbed the hem of his coat, the nails of raindrops fracturing the screen in front of Ranmaru as nature yet again proved itself stronger than anything man-made. 

People aren’t made of sugar. But Ai was, in one way or another -not being waterproof was listed as his weakness number one. Ranmaru was well aware, too well. He hoped the boy would’ve at least worn a raincoat, or carried an umbrella. Not like those things would’ve done much in that weather; it was just too aggravating to see him go so unprepared. Now there was nothing protecting him from the sky. Wasn't his self-preservation program supposed to prevent him from doing stupid, irrational shit like that? 

_He must've turned it off_ , dawned on Ranmaru. But that’d just mean that it was all Ai. Why would he ever take on a suicide mission like that?

How the raindrops made damage on their way was incomparable. It could've rained pins and needles just as well, Ranmaru thought. Ai shivered, dragging raspy inhales through the rain-obscured air. The water clung to his limbs, the boy soon soaked to the skin. Ranmaru could see its effect starting with naked eye: Ai’s straightforward stride slowed down, his joints popping and sparking. It was too much for him to bear; his build too fragile for such strain. 

Ranmaru watched his resolution, his late mania and madness, while his current form laid burned out across from him. Ai’s motives were always beyond the simple man. But the burn of emotion blazing through that hopeless journey resonated with him; for as much as it was bizarre it was stunning. And it had to be emotion; no other thing would drive a person like that.

The rain kept beating him down, but Ai wasn’t satisfied. He passed block after block, took a turn to a crosswalk and kept walking, walking-. Ranmaru had to skip some of it; there was over an hour of him just making his way. Did the android’s will knew any limits?

Finally it came to a halt. Upon arriving to his destination, Ai inspected the view. He seemed to be looking for a sign; of what kind, neither of them knew. Ranmaru stared at the city view around the boy incredulously. 

It looked just like the intersection where he had almost got hit. Or, it was the same.

Ranmaru would’ve paid to hear Ai’s inner monologue. The video only included external audio; it’d take the rest of the night for him to figure out the rest. Frustrated, Ranmaru had to settle down to take in the remainder of the film. He needed more clues.

The view of the empty, rain cleaned street coaxed a sigh out of Ai. Was it out of relief? Exhaustion? Ranmaru didn’t know; he had dropped out of the line of the boy’s thought a long time ago. He stood on the sidewalk staring at the changing traffic lights for a long time, as if to contemplate what had happened and what he had done. Ranmaru was curious to know his next objective, but it looked like he wasn’t sure either. 

At last, he attempted to take a step back, but it looked like he fell down instead judging by the way the view turned sideways and the screen went black.

Heart jumped in Ranmaru’s mouth. Haphazardly he hit pause on the video, the beating deafening in his ears. _It’s alright_ , he had to remind himself. _He’s here. He might’ve fell down last night but it’s alright, he made it here. He’s here_. Turning his gaze from the black screen to the boy he sought to calm down the adrenaline rush. Staring at the calm figure made wonders, Ai’s steady breathing soothing his anxious soul. 

Ranmaru started to feel contradicted about continuing the film. Did he really want to know what the boy had went through last night? _Yes_ , he decided. He wanted to know so he could console him.

Pressing the play button again, the blurry view of the nightly city reappeared, its charm so palpable it felt like they had never left it. Ai got up, confused and clumsy like a child, his feet barely carrying him. It seemed that he had lost the train of thought after passing out. Breath latched, Ranmaru watched him scramble and fall, his struggling placing a hundred stones on top of his already agitated heart. The merciless night swallowed him, and the rest of it was the same: pictures of Ai’s feet as he stumbled about, making his uneven way towards whatever destiny he could reach.

From the quick glances of street view he was able to catch, Ranmaru deduced that he had been making his way to the Quartet Night apartment. Before changing his aim from home to the gym -he must’ve realized he wouldn’t make it to the practice otherwise, for he kept falling down. White hands against the frigid concrete, scraped to the synthetic bone he was yet again on his knees in front of Ranmaru, the empty streets tucking his secret away into the pitch black. 

Some of his unconscious episodes had lasted up to an hour. Still, every time he was allowed to he scrambled on his feet creaking. He’d leave the side alleys and their street lights that shone into his eyes. Nothing would hold him back. His adventure had been hard and tedious, his persistence failing to waver. It was tormenting to watch him drag through it; and yet, Ranmaru couldn’t look away either. He was drawn towards the unmatched hope that sparked in his soul, that drove Ai from that eerie night to him.

Reaching the morning, there was one last heartbreak awaiting the man. Ai had reached the door behind of which their voices could be heard, their song playing subdued… And been unable to grasp the handle. Moving the cursor, Ranmaru became aware that he had lagged outside of the room for an hour before managing to come in.

He had seen everything up until present. Closing the tab thoughtfully, Ai’s voice croaking his name returned to him.

_Ranmaru_

And everything was clear. It had been a plea of help, the boy asking to be saved. The only thing he had been able to do anymore, that simple gesture… It lessened the man’s burden somehow, to know that Ai trusted him the most in the world. Ai had come to the right place, Ranmaru thought, his gaze drifting back to the sleeping beauty. 

Witnessing him in flesh after everything he had seen made his insides feel funny. What else he thought of him, Ranmaru wondered: and it gave him another idea. The whole of Ai’s mind open in front of him, his secrets laid out, the man typed the search bar his own name.

Despite the buildup, the outcome turned out pretty anticlimactic. It was just another file, his page -just had his name and a formal photo attached to the top corner. To be found was information of relations and a timeline of their acquaintance; nothing really dramatic or previously unknown to him. The only thing Ranmaru snorted at was the random trivia Ai had collected of him. _Folds clothes well. Takes good care of belongings. Naps a lot..._ A little stalker, wasn’t he? Still, his notes were kind of adorable. It taught Ranmaru a little bit more of the things that the android noticed in people. And wasn’t profiling a thing that all of us did? You quickly gather information of the people you’ve freshly met, and storage and update it as you continue to learn. Ai’s ways weren’t that uncommon from humans.

Scrolling up and down, Ranmaru checked if he had seen everything of entertainment, preparing to switch off his laptop. Just before he proceeded though, an unprecedented combination of letters underneath his name snatched his attention.

Out of nowhere, a string of words had appeared;

_Person of interest_

It read. Ranmaru’s jaw dropped. Staring at the line astounded, he could feel his cheeks gain color. The cool and composed pic of him on the display no longer matched the live version. _The fuck does that mean now?_ The man could swear that it hadn’t been there when he had first opened the file. Dashing to refresh the page, the line flickered but floated back up persistently, fluttering slightly with every click. Had his profile been corrupted?

It must be the rain, Ranmaru decided, his common sense kicking in. Also, the term could be something that all Quartet Night members were labeled with, or all the people close to Ai or whatever. It cannot be that abnormal, right? To support his theory, Ranmaru searched up Reiji’s page. 

_Work acquaintance. Bandmate. Flatmate. Friend._ There was all the words that he had had on his page too, _except_ for the mystic last one. 

Ranmaru felt like he was burning off his last brain cells with trying to understand Ai’s logic. Scrolling up and down fervently, he found nothing of interest in Kotobuki’s file, until another feature of the operating system caught his eye on the corner of the tab.

_Memory folder, tagged with #kotobukireiji_ , it read. Ranmaru tapped it open before he could think. Now it was really getting interesting. Although he was inside Ai’s system to gain knowledge of his condition, the newly surfaced mystery tempted him too much. So silencing the voice of reason, he sorted and clicked open the most recently watched clip. 

Reiji' s face appeared on the screen. The clip was only few seconds long. "Hey, don't forget we're having the sound check at 14!", he chirped. The video ended. _He must've just checked the schedule from that_ , Ranmaru concluded. Just as you do with your memories when you're trying to remember something. 

Skipping back to his own page for more clues, he opened _memory folder tagged with #kurosakiranmaru_. Last viewed and most viewed were the same. Ranmaru clicked open the first one on the list. 

In the video, he was laying on the green room sofa, asleep. So Ai had been watching him? _What's the fucking function of this, huh?_ Ranmaru grimaced. Not in the mood of staring at his own face while he had been out of it, he skipped over to the next one, and the next one. The contents varied broadly. In one, he was cooking something over the stove in the Quartet Night's apartment. Ai had been watching him over the back of the sofa. In the other, he was passing Ai in the hallway after one of their concerts, palm offered to a high five... Ranmaru with microphone in hand, sweating during his solo on the stage, next to Ai... His smile beaming as he had extended his hand towards the camera, towards him. The screams of the fans changing to the comfortable silence of their shared place, he couldn’t stop watching those small, intricate flashes of life, transfixed to their moments of togetherness. 

The more Ranmaru plodded through the selection the less sense it made. Even more perplexed he became as he happened to look at the number of views. 

_102 views. 146 views. 220 views._ Taking into account that some of Ai's most watched memories of him weren't more than a month old, the numbers meant that he had been rewatching him _daily_. 

The man turned from the bleary screen over to the sofa. He almost anticipated that Ai had stirred; but he remained resting, unchangeable. With his mind’s eye he could see Ai rise from his sleep, getting up from the sofa saying “Why are you looking at me like that?”. It felt so real that it was breaking his heart that it wasn’t. Ai continued his noiseless slumber, eyelids motionless and limbs painstakingly still. His unusual condition rushed the worry to overwhelm Ranmaru. God, what he would’ve given just to have him alive with him in the room right now! Instead, there was millions of questions swarming about behind his eyes. The amount had only multiplied after being inside Ai’s head; now, he was the only one able to relieve his doubt. 

Ranmaru let his distressed gaze linger on the boy. It was okay for this once, right? To look at him for as long as his heart desired. Ai was always able to take his mind out of any worry he had. And this was him expressing gratitude; probing his memories. Ranmaru sighed. He was well aware that he had taken it too far; Ai wouldn’t be too happy about his browsing history. But wasn’t this just him trying to learn his functions?

Because even after all that time, they knew next to nothing about each other. Despite going out of his way to keep up with him, Ranmaru felt like all he had done was crossed boundaries. Ai never opened up to him; so maybe that was the reason why he had been so attracted to peek inside. Aware of his own limitations as a man, Ranmaru escorted his dreams to their grave. He’d have to call the lab.

Stealing the last glance of his kryptonite he dialed the number. Funny, wasn’t it? How another person could seal his doom. No matter how hard the layer protecting his heart was, the boy would always leave his mark there. Now, his indistinguishable presence seemed to sink into the cushions, while the room filled quietly with chilling suspense. Ranmaru felt like debris; leftover of the things fit in Ai’s life.

“Well, what is it with him?”

He'd regret asking. The doc started a long and tedious explanation, a bunch of scientific slash medical stuff none of which Kurosaki could grasp. Like a background track it filled the clinical laboratory from corner to corner. The nonsensical flow of speech tired and irritated him the same -before the man knew it, his foot was tapping the floor restlessly, nails digging into his palm. His glance shot around the room for a possible escape. If he was to exit those doors now, would he find Ai behind them?

They had been keeping him for over a month now. Ranmaru was at his limits. It was hard enough to navigate the god damned press conferences, everybody asking when Quartet Night would be back on tour and why Mikaze Ai had cancelled all his interviews. All that hassle; but after the days were done, even more he had come to despise the quiet apartment, the boy’s place on the sofa next to him empty and cold. None of the remaining men could grasp the concept of ‘normal’. Nothing was normal without Ai. It had all gone so weird and spiraling deeper; now, for the life of him Ranmaru couldn’t go home anymore. Not without him.

“...But the reason we invited you here”, was the line that snatched his attention back to the topic. The man snapped his eyes back to the professor like a cat fixates on a red dot.

“It’s evident that our A.I. had taken a special… interest to you, or so to say.” The professor had hardly glanced away from his papers the whole time. Now, he turned wholly towards the visitor, leaning over the table with a significant look in his eyes. “We’d like to understand why.”

Ranmaru short-circuited for a second before bouncing back. “Why are you asking me? I thought you were the well educated one in here”, came his snarky remark. Seriously, why did they think that he had any say in what Ai thought? He was far too hard-headed for that, the mouthy brat. Frankly, the whole situation pissed him off. Ai was seriously damaged and in the facility somewhere, while he was being kept in this compound and treated like he had been brainwashing him. 

His anarchy was promptly ignored as the lab coat man turned back to his statistics. The screen was filled with a block of text that seemed to run endlessly as he scrolled. 

“You see, this is A.I.’s code. It’s written by our team of scientists, and it dictates everything he says or does. Now, in the area of his personal relationships, there’s something we can’t quite get to the bottom of.”

He turned the ghostly blue light towards him. “Someone has been adding to the code. We were able to identify a whole new section -everything of it under your name.”

“Do you people think I’ve been the one to mess around with his head? As if I knew how!”, Ranmaru snapped. It was outrageous, as much as it was fascinating. Where has the new material come from, as certainly not from him? The growing suspense and anxiety made his blood boil, then the realization hit him; and his veins ran cold.

“What did you do to the data?“ Ranmaru heard himself ask, quieter. The attempt to mask it as a casual inquiry failed; he heard his voice shake. The storm was coming, the heavy rains foreshadowing it. Soon there would be no constraining it anymore.

“We deleted it, naturally”, the doc said, suspecting nothing. He said something else right after that, but Ranmaru wasn't listening anymore. An undistinguished feeling raved through his body, his trembling hands grabbing the seat. He couldn't hear anything over the thunder blaring in his ears.

“Where is he?” Ranmaru’s vision was white with anger. 

He needed to find him. 

“What?” the prof turned from the computer in pure oblivion. He had pushed his glasses up his nose bridge in vain; having his doctor’s coat wretched by the impatient male they went askew again. A lightning struck. Ranmaru pulled him up from the chair, growling. 

“WHERE are you keeping him? Take me to Ai, _now_.”

The hall was massive; echoing with machinery sounds. It was hard to spot him in the middle of the junk, but when Ranmaru finally did, the view made him wish he hadn’t come.

They treated him like an object. The boy had been put standing in what looked like a roomy, transparent coffin, submerged in some eerie liquid. He was stripped except for a pair of white briefs. Eyes gently closed, they were yet to restart him after the repair operation.

Out of everything considered, the most disturbing thing about that grotesque setting were the cords. They were _everywhere_ ; inserted onto his back and every limb. Like vines, they snaked around his bare skin, gathering information from the bat of his eyelash to the very beat of his artificial heart. 

Ranmaru hurried down the stairs, never releasing the magnificent show from his gaze. Approaching the glass transfixed, he was bumped into by technicians and other staff hustling around the product. They were preparing for his release; a flick of a switch and the pressure dropped, making the liquid rush out. Ranmaru had to resort to his elbows in order to push himself through.

He made it just in time. As the surface lowered slowly, Ai showed signs of waking. Head barely exposed he opened his eyes, squinting around the room warily. Ranmaru was out of breath, both because of the earlier struggle and the breathtaking view before him. He swallowed dry as Ai’s gaze landed on him.

As always, Ranmaru could see the wheels turning behind that deadpan expression. Ai’s pupils dilated, lashes fluttering more open. It was more than he had thought he’d have. Ai was a proud creature; the mask on his feelings too elaborate to scrutinize. But moments like this gave the man some hope. The actions he took right after waking up had vulnerability that was one of a kind; gifting him a sight he’d never seen before.

“Hey, Ai”, Ranmaru mustered. He didn’t intend his voice to sound so hoarse, as if from the lack of use. But the situation needed some stability -he needed some. Unsure of which way it’d flow, he was once again locked in in the wait of him, who watched him from his glacial kingdom, the lonely throne made of ice.

The boy was standing on a platform of sort. Now, the wires monitoring his every inch creaked and pulled as he took a step down. The discharge was almost complete; the liquid lowered to his calves before petering out. Closing in the remaining distance, the wet sound of his bare feet against the tile contented Ranmaru’s beaten down heart. It was blissful to see him move with ease.

As Ai stood on his level barefoot, without the illusion of extra height his usual hairstyle created, the man understood for the first time how small he was. Built like a fifteen-year-old, he really was just a kid. Ranmaru realized that he had never seen him with his hair down either; the boy kept it tucked into that neat hairdo at all times. Now, the locks ran soaked along his face, and he looked like a sad and abandoned thing inside that glass prison.

Ai had his gaze directed down. Ranmaru watched his long eyelashes from above as he raised his hands slowly, contemplatively. Testing out his newly regenerated joints he reached them out. The man rushed forward to receive him, but the dome was on the way; and he had to settle for pressing his hands against it. Silently, Ai watched him move before mimicking it. Ranmaru felt his heart throb as the boy placed his smaller, paler palms against his, the invisible barrier separating them from feeling each other’s skin.

While the pair continued their captivating pantomime a commotion was started in the upper level.

The professor stood in front of the overseer’s window, studying the busily swarming hall below. The rocker had a serious effect on the A.I. somehow, judging by the way the duo acted like the rest of the world had ceased to exist. His examination was interrupted as another scientist banged through the door.

“The deleted data, it’s -it’s coming back, like somebody’s writing it in real time!”

“Impossible”, came the short answer. The man never turned around from the window, not once releasing them from his view. A hand raised to fiddle the now permanent crease on the collar of his lab coat. 

A man can not command, dictate or take away love any more than any other force of nature. The unfolding view reflected from the lenses of his glasses as it occurred him tenderly. It was time to bow before the truth.

He was irrepressible.

They would let nothing interrupt their bubble. Ai’s eyes were still keenly contemplating their joined fingers, the feeling of the wet glass on them instead of him. His system was still groggy after the hibernation; the rare clumsiness in his reactions melted something deep inside Ranmaru’s chest. And set it ablaze -only one urgent thought raising in his mind. _Let him out_ , but the words he needed were stuck in his throat. Frankly, it was horrifying to see Ai behind bars like a circus animal. Ranmaru hoped that Ai would put up more of a fight, but this species was raised in captivity. He was too used to be robbed of his freedom.

The boy inspected his upset expression, his ever so familiar anguish and urgency, with only calmness and serenity. Slowly like in a dream, he pondered the world around him. The information returned slowly. Completing the download would take a couple of minutes; soon he’d gain back the piece he was searching for.

Ranmaru watched as the android attempted closer. Ai rose to his tiptoes, leaning in until his nose tip touched the glass. He opened his mouth softly to speak; but everything was muted outside of his casket. Unknowing of it, the boy kept repeating the word or a sentence insistently. Witnessing it ripped Ranmaru’s heart out of his chest and stomped on it. His inability to help the immured boy was enough to drive him out of his mind.

“Hey, I can’t hear you, I’m sorry”, Ranmaru whispered. It was all he could do with no air in his lungs, his hands tied behind his back. The man leaned his forehead against the glass, feeling burdened and weary to the limits. What was going on? Why did seeing Ai so helpless and fragile move him to such an extent? The shadow of his arm over his face Ranmaru raised his eyes to lock them with the boy. Ai blinked back behind the force field, his puffs of breath leaving foggy marks on its surface. More than ever, it made Ranmaru wish he could just take him and run, take him out of this place. Take him home.

A couple of orderlies had appeared behind him.

“I’m sorry”, they said. “But you need to leave. You’re agitating the A.I.” The way they pronounced his name made Ranmaru furious. They really had the nerve to talk like he was just some damn machine. Hadn’t they seen him? How vulnerable he was? But before he could express any wrath, his arms were grabbed at both sides as they prepared to remove him from the area by force. Ranmaru chased Ai into his field of vision for the last time -the boy looked frightened and confused as he was dragged further away from him, until the doors shut between them and he was taken out of the building.

“Ai? Ai.”

Ai turned to look at Ranmaru, who had been calling his name from the sofa. 

“What?”

He scoffed. “You're staring at the wall again.”

Ai turned to the wall he had been facing. Right. He had most likely walked in and stopped there, deep in his thoughts. There was a lot to process today: his day had been filled with arguments with his manager, unprofessional security guards, a resolution to a stalking case… Frankly put, he was quite exhausted, and after stepping into their shared flat he hadn’t bothered to keep up the front of productivity anymore. Ranmaru was the only person with whom he let the illusion of normalcy slip, and he let himself indulge in it. 

It was worrying the other man though. Ranmaru most likely thought he appeared all laid back right now, but he couldn't fool Ai. Just earlier, his pose had stiffed, and a hint of concern had crept into his expression. He must have thought that he was relapsing. Ai hated to see how much he cared about him; for on top of everything that was frying his circuits today, it activated his unwritten code, the one that required the most mental work from him. 

“I just… Had a rough day”, he admitted.

That softened Ranmaru’s gaze. “Come here”, he called, patting the empty spot next to him on the sofa.

He was laying his whole weight across the thing while playing with his phone, but scooted closer to the center to back up the invitation. Ai took it, plunging under his arm. Bodies flush together, they shuffled awkwardly until both were comfortable. 

Squished against his side, Ai nested his head in the crook of Ranmaru's neck contently. While the other man continued absently the news article he had been reading, Ai contemplated if he wanted to talk about it. 

It had been one month and five days since he had returned from the maintenance. Ranmaru had acted weird for the first few days, but since Ai had been buried up to his eyes in work to catch up with the rescheduling he had had no time to make a proper analysis. It was rare for them to get to hang out -even squeezing a phone call in his schedule was a task. However, they would make time.

Something had shifted after his return. Breathing in his scent Ai thought about it, no matter how hard it was to make sense of. He kept coming back just to spiral down to the questions. When had they become so uninhibited with each other? 

Since when Ranmaru's hand had started snaking around his waist, bumping their hips together as they walked? When had Ai's head fell against his shoulder for the first time? Now, they sang into the same microphone on the stage, looking for each other’s light in front of the thousands twinkling ones. They had always been playful and kind, their presence a comfort to each other. Crossing a boundary had been inevitable, almost wanted, almost rushed. They cherished every little moment to be alone in front of the spotlight, alone together.

Ai turned to his stomach, and traced the pattern on Ranmaru’s shirt with feather-light touches. Only one thing was able to disrupt his calm contentment: they still hadn’t talked about what had happened back in the lab. What had Ranmaru done there, and why had he looked like that?

The image haunted his system. Ai supposed that shedding it wouldn’t be an option: the last time he had refused to acknowledge his feelings, instead dragged them to the trash bin of his file, they had corrupted his system and made him do something stupid. His unwritten code still existed, stronger than before; and it reinforced whenever he was alone with Ranmaru like this. It was time to do something about it, or he would never find peace.

Closing his eyes, Ai brought the scene in front of his eyes for one more time. Clear like it had been yesterday: his own hands on the misty glass, Ranmaru’s face full of torment on the other side of it. The chilly feeling underneath his palms fresh... Ranmaru had never looked so sad than when he had stood in front of his container. Was witnessing his artificiality that upsetting to him?

“ _I love you_ ”, Ai had tried to tell him, to fix everything, to fix him who thought himself unlovable. But the timing had once again been of his disadvantage, and the sad little robot hadn’t been able to make any difference. Sorry for all the mess he had made and the pain he had caused it had seemed to be the only thing in need of saying -that he did everything out of love. It was all the explanation to his incoherence. See, hearing Ranmaru get hit by a car he had just had to make sure that he was okay, against his better judgement.

"I fell down while it was raining, and got sick", Ai had regarded his sudden disappearance in a press conference. It was true, basically; yet frustrated him to say. There was a bigger scheme behind all of his recent actions, far bigger than what could easily be put into words. Laying down next to Ranmaru the android lamented his inability to say the things he wanted to say, to ask the questions he needed answers to.

It was funny. He could read his vitals, monitor his heart rate, and analyze most of his organ functions; still, he could never tell what he was thinking. There was only guesses; reliable data only acquired by asking. Ai sighed. That human had to be the the worst thickhead he had ever met, if he really hadn’t caught up by now. 

He got up. Ranmaru wondered why he was leaving so soon, judging by the dismay on his face; but Ai had differing plans. Weighing one knee on the edge of the sofa he sat on Ranmaru’s stomach, straddling the man efficiently so he couldn’t escape.

“What do you think of me?” he asked. Ranmaru stared up at him in consternation. Now, he had his eyes permanently fixed away from his phone screen and on him like they should be. And once again, whatever he had expected for Ai to say it had not been _that_. 

“What? Oh god.” the man gave a nervous laughter. Ai didn’t. After all, it was a serious conversation they were having. He waited patiently for his answer, or until the man caught up -the curious android on top of him didn’t relent his stare, the bright cyan like piercing through his layers until his heart. At last, Ranmaru scoffed.

“I am crushing on you, you idiot. Can’t you tell?”

Ai couldn’t. Maybe he had been the thickheaded one out of the two, he thought absently. By rule, human actions were easily predictable, but not this individual’s, no. Kurosaki’s mood swings were swift like a weathervane, going from sunny day to full on storm in a matter of seconds. That’s why he was easily picking fights with others -Ai’s sharp eye had sensitized to follow the signs of his lashes. He had always thought that the man just chose to make an exception with him, acting gentle and thoughtful. Maybe he had scrutinized his actions too closely and missed the big picture.

_Crush_  
\ ˈkrəsh \  
Definition of _crush_  
1: an intense and usually passing infatuation

“Is it temporary?” the android asked. The question made the man frown. Ranmaru’s fingers curled, gathering a handful of his jeans. His hands had landed on his thighs without either of them noticing.

“No? Jesus, Ai, I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just like you. I could barely withstand seeing you in that, uh, thing -thought I’d lose you. Don’t ever get yourself broken again, ever.” 

Something was happening. Ranmaru’s heart beat had accelerated, his blood vessels gathering the redness to his face. The man huffed at the end of his confession, turning away. His eyebrows knit together angrily; that expression Ai was familiar with. _Embarrassment_. The way his fists were imprinting marks on his thighs confirmed his theory.

Now, Ai had gained the information he had been looking for. But it turned out he didn’t know what to do with it; and the simple fact made his head feel like overheating, his code updating itself. Being cared of for simply existing and not because of duty, idolization or profit was new to him. There was no reason or logic to love, but wasn’t that distinguishingly the same in himself? He didn’t know where it had come from, and yet; whenever he was reactivated, before remembering his own name, realizing his own body, he knew that he loved him. Upon seeing his face he’d remember the fondness associated to his image, and it’d make him seek out to him. 

The rest would assemble itself. Now; after the questions had lessened, only one prevailed. How could he express that he felt the same way? Ai looked into his options: they were endless, which disabled his decision-making greatly. By now, Ranmaru’s glare had shifted to side-eye him in great distress over his indecisiveness, which in turn pressured him further… Pained mind tossing and turning, Ai came to the conclusion of discarding it altogether and instead, act on instinct.

Diving into the unknown territory, Ai placed his palms on Ranmaru’s chest. It made the other anticipate something, because he let out a low “Ai?”, like a warning; but was given no room to protest. It had to be that way for him to finish what he had started; to claim responsibility over it. And so, the man’s reflection on Ai’s pupils was full of question marks before Ai closed his lids, placing his lips on his mouth. 

Mostly it was the android giving out a wordless message. But then, it evolved into something else entirely; an experiment. Hitching closer for comfort, Ai heard Ranmaru swallow out of postponed surprise. There was a lot to take in; Ai studied the way he answered, how the tips of his colorful hair fell deeper past Ranmaru’s cheek as he was being pulled in. How their noses touched, lingering for a moment; how their breaths mingled and what he tasted like. How hesitantly Ranmaru let him go as he pulled back, as if already missing him. Ai tilted his head back in expectation of his reaction, ready to be sorry. 

“Are you serious?” Ranmaru laughed, relieved and out of breath. His face was all the reassurance he needed. Ai broke into a smile himself, and it was his answer. The expression was brought forth by all the love and mischief and excitement and nervousness that finally flooded in now that he allowed, pride for what he had dared to do on top. He smiled with his lips parted and eyes closed, happiness powdering his cheeks with pink, and it was the best thing Ranmaru had ever had on his lap,

the best thing he had ever had the privilege to call his. Ranmaru finally had the permission to stare openly, and was immediately abusing his newfound freedom. Ai looked so confident in his decision to have chosen him that he had no other options than to buy that. Boosted by it, he grabbed Ai’s hips friskily and turned them around.

“You tryin’ to kill me or something?” Ranmaru murmured into his hair, still over the moon by the fact that this was indeed happening. He could feel the android slipping his hands up his sides, his breathing hot and hitched underneath him. Ai squirmed, tormenting him further. As he ceased to struggle on the spot he had been pinned, Ranmaru pulled back to see his face properly.

It was his turn to be flushed. _Serves him right_ , Ranmaru thought, grinning. The fantastic mess that was Mikaze Ai, sinking into the couch cushions between his hands holding up his upper body, it was… Indescribable, yet just how he had imagined it. _Fuck, I really really love him_ , passed by his consciousness. He had always done, he knew. Without clinging to it too much, instead letting the thought take its time to set in, Ranmaru turned his attention from inwards and back to him. 

Ai seemed to be a bit out of sync. Ranmaru was reminded of that scrawny kid on backstage that day. He had ever since anticipated Ai’s growth, but the way his presence would fill the rooms of his mind had been unimaginable. Ai had used his limitless potential to enchant him; now, he was addicted. Then again, Ai was looking at him with such an absolute admiration in his eyes now that Ranmaru just had to wonder whose fault it was, anyway?

Who had made them fall for each other. Although the question hardly mattered -Ai’s fingers crept to his shirt collar, and it disappeared. They had made this themselves. Returning to him by his orders, Ranmaru refused to think anything besides the warmth on his skin, the fluttering heartbeat simulating his. It seemed that their game would only increase its rounds in the future, the absence of fairness making evening the score impossible. But it was just how they liked it.


End file.
